First and Last
I have fallen in love for the last time in my life. That’s a pretty heady statement I realize but it is true. Before I tell you about my last love, let me tell you about my first.
Oh, how handsome he was. He was tall, dark, had this mane of thick magnificent hair. He had a dazzling smile framed by a devilish mustache. And had strong hands to hold me. I ran to him every time I saw him and could not wait to fly into his lap.
There was a problem though. Our love was not meant to be. Although I was single, he was not. He was married. He had children. And then there was the age factor. Not that I cared a bit about it but I’m certain he did – he was 30ish, I was 6ish. He was my Sunday School teacher.
I still recall sitting at his feet as he sat in one of those tiny chairs and read to us. He read stories of Noah and his Ark and Jesus and the loaves and fishes. My Mother still teases me to this day when ever we run into him in town. “There’s Mr. So-and-so. You were so in love with him,” Mom will say to me as if I could ever forget.
The heart never does forget its first awakening. It’s like a flower awakening from its bulb underground on its first full day of spring. And it seems like for the rest of our lives we are constantly trying to recreate that awakening.
We pursue new people, new hobbies, new careers, new interests all in search of that elusive thing that will make our heart sing like it did that very first time we fell in love. And for a while we think we have it.
As we drive that shiny new car off the lot for the first time we are filled with excitement and pride. We wash it every week. Won’t allow eating or smoking in it. But once it gets its first ding from the clumsy driver parked next to us, the bubble is burst and we start our search anew.
I have spent my life searching for that thing, that awakening of the heart that will never leave. I have come so close and missed each time. I thought I was destined to be one of those people who would live without love. I would be content but unloved. My heart would beat but lie unawakened. I was just about to accept my fate until fate stepped in.
My Last Love is a Writer. Some call him a story-teller, some call him a song writer. I call him a poet. He has me written the most beautiful love poem you will ever read.
He wrote it to me years ago. In fact, I’ve had it in my possession since I was a little girl. I just never took the time to sit and really read it. I read it from start to finish and then even read it out loud – it’s really even more stunning that way. This is as true a love poem as anyone will ever write. And it was written directly with me - and you - in mind.
When I read my love poem, I fell head over heels passionately in love with my Love. You will too when you read it. My Last Love and my first have a couple of things in common – both are attached to others besides just me and both have children. The difference is my Last Love shares His love with all of us who are His children and His Beloved. Everyone is His Beloved. No one is left out.
Just when I thought I was alone and unlovely my Beloved sent me the Song of Solomon (aka Song of Songs). It is the most stunningly beautiful work of art of love you will ever read. My heart was awakened far beyond its wildest dreams. And the best part is I know my Beloved is with me forever. The awakening is only beginning.
My lover spoke and said to me,
"Arise, my darling,
my beautiful one, and come with me.
See! The winter is past;
the rains are over and gone.
Flowers appear on the earth;
the season of singing has come,
the cooing of doves
is heard in our land.
The fig tree forms its early fruit;
the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
Arise, come, my darling;
my beautiful one, come with me.” Song of Solomon 2:10-13
This is just a snippet, so I hope you grab your copy of our love letter and I hope you fall head over heels too. I hope your heart awakens in ways you never knew possible. Mine continues to everyday. Our Beloved is like that.
He may not have been the first, but He sure saved the best for last.
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